Tainted love
by tiears
Summary: All he could do was think of her, even though she was in another's arms. Because of her, he had changed, and it was not for the better. (warning: dark fic) (LitaJericho)
1. Prologue: Seeing red

**Distribution: **Go right ahead, just let me know.

**Disclaimer: **Story mine, Characters not. Nuff said.

**Notes: **Set in late 2001, around Jericho's heel turn.

**Warning:** Potentially dark fic in later chapters. Not a feel good romance. Proceed at own risk.

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**Prologue: Seeing red**

Blind. That was precisely what he would describe himself if he could see himself. He was blinded by his love for her. All he ever saw in his minds eye was her, and only her.

Maybe, he reasoned, that was why he was seeing red a lot these days, _literally_. Red – the colour of blood symbolising life, or death depending on how you saw it, the colour of pure rage, anger, that of molten lava. The colour of the heart, of love.

And of course, it was the colour of her hair. Oh yes, Chris Jericho knew that he was being quite ridiculous, to be thinking of the many associations with the colour red. To think it was all because of _her_.

He briefly wondered if she ever suspected of his feelings for her, or if she had really been too blind to see it. He found himself questioning all the what if's scenario. If he had told her, would she have returned his feelings? What if he was the one who had kissed her at the ring following her victory over Malenko, instead of Matt? Would they be together now, as a whole like he knew it should have been, like it _should_ be.

He used to call her red, he remembered, not too long ago. It was his special nickname for her, his and his only, much like her. But then, Matt had to start calling her that. Chris had felt like it was a horrible violation, a sign of things to come, that maybe he, Matt, might one day wrestle his girl away from his grasp before she was even his.

But, she was _never_ yours, Chris thought to himself darkly, scowling at the thought. And it was all thanks to that rotten Hardy boy. Funny, how people called Matt the brother with the longer life expectancy, because when Chris was done with him, he _wouldn't_ havea life left. He would make sure of that. He would, because it was personal.

Personal. He wished he had never saved Matt from the Radicalz that night. He only did so because she was at ringside. Before that, he never teamed with the Hardys, found no need to do so, until her. That was why he found himself insulting Dean Malenko, coming to her aid. He thought that though maybe he couldn't tell her he loved her, because the Hardys were hanging over her like flies, he could show her.

He was wrong, he realised now, actions don't speak louder than words. Perhaps, that was why he was a natural loud mouth – it got him places.

When Matt and Lita finally got together, it was too much for him to bear. He began lashing out against the couple, as it was broadcast on the titatron. It was a primal instinct, to lash out and bonds in hopes to break them. He was hoping somehow to break down the bond, the relationship between them. Instead, it backfired – they were now quite possibly the closest couple on SMACKDOWN, next to Perry Saturn and his mop.

It hurt him so much to think about it, yet his mind continued to harp on it, over and over again. It was his own personal hell, to watch Lita with another.

And there was nothing he could do about it.

**TBC…**

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Author's note: 

Surprised by the pairing? I think the note was a dead give away. I know this is short (it's just a prologue, after all) but there'll be more to come. That is, if I have the time and laziness isn't eating me away.

Enjoy! (and hopefully, review as well)


	2. Chp 1: The lady in red

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**Distribution: **Go right ahead, just let me know.

**Disclaimer: **Story mine, Characters not. Nuff said.

**Notes: **Set in late 2001, around Jericho's heel turn. Potentially dark fic. Title formerly known as you make me blind, always in my mind. I decided to shorten it.

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**Chapter 1:** **The lady in red**

Chris Jericho sat on the stool, his hand absently swirling the glass of wine, his eyes gazing rather fixatedly on the couple that were on the dance floor.

The sight truly made him sick. He briefly wondered why he was putting himself through this pain, but he knew all to well that he just couldn't escape the sight of her. Sure, he had pictures and all the wwe posters of her back at home, but they couldn't compare to Lita herself. They were just mere carbon copies, they lacked her fire, her energy, her soul - the very things that first drew and ensnared him to her.

Too bad it she didn't feel the same for him.

He sighed to himself, half wishing he had not come down to the bar. He had come here on the pretext of drinking himself to a drunken stupor, and then he saw her. Of course, he knew Lita would be coming, it _had_ been their regular hangout after all, which may have well been the real reason why he chose this bar over the many others, not that he'd readily admit that. He knew better to flat out deny that though - her presence did affect him, which was why he ordered red wine over hard liquor.

Red wine had been her first gift to him, when she spent Christmas at his house, being snowed in. It was the best memory he had of her, the most cherished of them all. He remembered dancing for no apparent reason in his living room, holding her close to him, swaying slowly albeit drunkenly to music only both could hear. He recalled kissing her at midnight, and seeing her face shine. He thought back then he had a chance, but the next morning, the magical connection between them had fizzled out. She had asked him if they were still friends, and dumbly enough, he said yes, though his heart was screaming against it. He wanted so much more, he wanted her. But he was afraid that this revelation might send her in the other direction, and he couldn't afford that, after all his efforts in getting her this close to his grasp. He silently vowed to save it for later, when he was certain of her feelings.

Too bad, he was never certain. Besides, if she did have any feelings for him, she sure as hell didn't show it at the rate Matt swooped her. She practically fell into his awaiting arms! Chris scowled, his grip tightening on the delicate glass. He seemed to do that often these days.

Strains of Chris de Burgh's Lady in red played out in the back ground, drawing him out of his thoughts.

How bloody appropriate, Jericho thought. That song fit her to a T. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he zoomed in on the couple.

**Never seen you looking so lovely like you did tonight** **Never seen you shine so bright**

As if on cue, Matt whispered something in her ear that made her beam.

_**Never seen so many men ask if you wanted to dance**_

_**Looking for a little romance**_

_**Given half the chance.**_

Half a chance, he scoffed. He didn't even get that.

_**I have never seen that dress you're wearing**_

_**Or the highlights in you hair that catch your eyes**_

_**I have been blind.**_

Blind is right, I was too blinded by my love for her, he thought bitterly.

Not being able to stand it any longer as he watched Lita and Matt get closer, he bailed out, slamming a fifty-dollar bill to cover the expense.

She put him through hell, whether she knew it or not, and he was going to repay the favour.

As he turned his back, he didn't catch the glance Lita threw at his direction, the softening of her eyes. If he had waited awhile, he would have seen Lita stop dancing to head in his direction.

Just too damn bad he didn't.

**TBC…**

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Author's note: 

Special thanks to Melony aka cenasnakedinmybedwithme for the email review : )

Hmm..is anyone else reading this fic? Just curious. Anyways, reviews are appreciated. ;)


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